Rebel Belle

Saylor came up behind me, watching the bird, too, and I suddenly remembered the other thing she’d said. “What do you mean that you’d be happy if we liked each other were it not for our ‘respective positions’? Is Paladin-Oracle romance frowned upon or something?”



She sighed. “There’s nothing expressly in the rules about it, but it’s generally acknowledged not to be the best idea. The relationship between Paladin, Oracle, and Mage is complicated enough without dragging the heart into it. And there’s always the chance that personal feelings can interfere with duty.”



The late-afternoon sun shone on her silver hair as I looked over at her. Saylor was still staring into the backyard, but her eyes were far away.



“Miss Saylor,” I said slowly. “The spell. What if . . . what if Blythe’s right and it just powers him up? No crazy times or power twisting his brain or any of that?”



Saylor kept staring in the backyard. In the fading light, I could see some of her fuchsia lipstick had bled into the tiny wrinkles around her mouth. “If that’s the case, it would be a miracle. The Ephors believed—I believed—there was a reason Oracles were almost never male. They’re . . .” She sighed. “It’s an ugly word, but they’re aberrations. And if Blythe does this spell on David, he’ll be every bit as lost to us, do you understand me? That much power, it will burn him up and eat him alive until he’s not David anymore, but a powerful, dangerous creature that absolutely must be put down.”



David’s dream. Both of us crying, something in my hand, him dying because of me . . .



Goosebumps had broken out over my whole body, and they had nothing to do with the cold. “I understand.”



Chapter 36



Across town, my friends were all at Bee’s house, putting on their dresses together, laughing and doing each other’s makeup. I imagined them stepping into their white shoes, slipping on gloves, while I got ready by myself. I’d told Bee that Mom wanted it to be just us, a kind of mother-daughter bonding thing. Really, I just wanted to be alone.



Once I was done, I turned to stare into the mirror. The dress was every bit as beautiful as it had always been, but it was a smidgen too big. I’d lost weight these past few weeks. And then there was my face, pale even under the makeup. One way or another, everything would change after tonight.



The door opened behind me, and Mom walked in. As soon as her eyes landed on me, she drew in a soft breath. “Oh, Harper.”



I fiddled with my pearls. “It looks good, right? I wasn’t sure about these sleeves, but with the gloves . . .”



Mom crossed the room in a few strides and rested her hands on my shoulders. “It’s better than good. It’s beautiful.”



And it was. Or it would’ve been if I could stop thinking of it as the dress I might die in. The dress I would be wearing when I screwed this whole thing up and got everyone I loved and everything I knew blown off the map.



I swallowed those thoughts down, trying to smile. “You look amazing, too,” I told Mom. She was wearing a soft pink dress that brought color to her cheeks and made her dark eyes shine. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I turned around to hug Mom before she could notice.



“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered against my temple.



I gave a watery chuckle. “Why? All I’m doing is walking down some stairs and trying not to spill punch on my dress.”



But Mom shook her head and pulled back. “No,” she said, holding me at arm’s length. “Not just for Cotillion. For the girl— no, the woman—you’ve become.”



Now I didn’t have to worry about hiding tears. We were both a little weepy.



“I’m sorry for being so overprotective these past few weeks,” Mom told me. She smelled like Mary Kay makeup and hairspray, and I hugged her again.



“I’m sorry, too,” I told her, and nothing had ever been truer.



There was a soft knock at the door, and when Mom and I turned, Saylor was standing there. She was already dressed for Cotillion, too, wearing a navy dress, with a white rose corsage pinned to the bodice.



“Saylor?” Mom asked, confused.



Saylor met my eyes, and I nodded.



Satisfied, Saylor walked into the room and reached into her handbag. She pulled out the little pot of lip balm. “Hillary, don’t you look lovely?”



Saylor’s smile was bright as ever, and her accent seemed thicker than normal. “Where did you find that dress?”



I could tell Mom was still a little puzzled, but manners trumped confusion. “Nordstrom,” she answered, brushing a hand over the skirt. “I think it’s supposed to be a mother-of-thebride dress, but I guess that’s appropriate.”



She gave a nervous little chuckle, and Saylor laughed, too. “Mine is the same. But that color . . . here, let me get a closer look.”



And then she touched Mom’s hand. The scent of roses wafted over me as Saylor held onto Mom and looked deep into her eyes. “You are going to stay home tonight, Hillary. You and Tom both. You don’t feel well, and you can’t bring yourself to ruin Harper’s special night. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and you’ll be so sorry to have missed it, but you’ll know it was the right thing to do.”



Mom swayed on her feet a little, and I gripped her other arm. But after a moment, she gave a faint nod. “I don’t feel very well. I think I’ll stay home tonight.”



Saylor gave her hand a pat. “Good girl. Now go on and change into something more comfortable.”



Mom didn’t walk out of my room so much as float. “Thank you,” I said to Saylor, even though watching my mother leave made my heart twist painfully.



But Saylor was still staring out the door. “Harper, if Blythe’s spell goes badly tonight, it won’t matter that your parents aren’t actually at Magnolia House.”



“I know.” I looked around my bedroom, wondering if this was the last time I’d see my purple bedspread, or the silver and cherrywood jewelry box that had been my grandmother’s.



“Everyone in this town is in danger if—”



“I. Know,” I repeated. “And I know that my aunts will still be there, and my friends, and my boyfriend.”



Turning back to the mirror, I pinched my cheeks in a lastditch effort not to look quite so much like death. Honestly, white really is a difficult color for anyone to wear. “But I had to do something.”



I thought Saylor would argue that, too, but she just sighed and sank down on the edge of my bed. “Don’t we all.”



“Have you been to Magnolia House yet?” I asked. “Any sign of . . . anything?”



She shook her head. “Everything is as it should be at the house, but Blythe is here.”



The words sent a shiver racing through me. “How do you know?”



“I felt my wards giving way this afternoon,” Saylor said, glancing up as she rummaged in her handbag. “I don’t know how she did it, but it has to be her.”



“What could she even be planning?” I asked, going to sit next to Saylor. “Is she just going to march into Magnolia House and start her mojo?”



Saylor shook her head. “I don’t know. She’ll need to be protected from you while she’s attempting the ritual, but she doesn’t have a Paladin on her side. And the ritual itself is surprisingly simple. It won’t take her long.”



Dr. DuPont, shoe sticking out of his neck, suddenly flashed through my mind. That had been six weeks ago. Six weeks to completely reorder my entire life.



And possibly end it.



“Hired assassins then maybe? Disguised as cater waiters?” “That’s a possibility,” Saylor acknowledged with a nod. “Keep an eye on them.”



Crossing over to my dresser, I picked up my lip gloss. I wasn’t forgetting that tonight, at least. “I will,” I said, swiping on a coat of Coral Shimmer.



Saylor watched me in the mirror. “Of course, there’s always the possibility she’ll try to kill you before she starts the ritual. That would probably be the easiest thing to do.”



My heart sank, and the hand holding the lip gloss trembled. “Well, yeah, there’s that.”



Rising from the bed, Saylor came to stand behind me, her hands on my shoulders. “You can do this,” she told me. “I know you can.”



“I have been rocking the training pretty hard,” I admitted, and Saylor tightened her grip.



“I’ve known you since you were a tiny little girl, Harper Jane Price. You are driven, and smart, and sharp, and there’s no other Paladin I’d rather have fighting for David tonight than you.” It was all I’d ever wanted her to say. Okay, so I hadn’t exactly wanted the Paladin part, but Saylor Stark praising me about anything was good enough for me. Reaching up, I took one of her hands and squeezed it.



“Are you ready?” she asked as the doorbell rang downstairs.



Ryan.



“As I’ll ever be.”



Chapter 37



The gravel and shells crunched under Ryan’s tires as he pulled the car up to Magnolia House. My heart thumped steadily in my chest as I stared at his headlights. How many times had I looked at this house and thought it was the prettiest place in the world? How many times had I pictured myself living there, sweeping down those wide front stairs in a Scarlett O’Hara gown?



Now staring at it, all I could think was that not only would I never live in Magnolia House, but that I might actually die there. Tonight. I tugged at my gloves. They were damp and wrinkled, and I realized my palms were sweating.



I was so busy fiddling with the row of pearl buttons, trying to get the stupid gloves off, that I didn’t notice Ryan watching me until he reached out and began undoing the buttons himself.



“Here,” he said softly. His fingers were surprisingly gentle as they pulled the buttons through their little loops, and for the first time in a long time, something swelled in my chest as I watched him. It wasn’t love. Or at least, it wasn’t the boyfriend kind of love. But it was warmth and affection and this . . . I don’t know, gratitude.

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